Bethany Finally Snaps When Greg Mocks Her Weight Loss
Soft sunlight pours through the living-room windows. Bethany sits quietly on the couch, still recovering from her recent weight-loss surgery. She looks tired but hopeful. A glass of water rests on the table beside her. She hears a knock at the door and slowly gets up.
Who is it?
It’s me, Greg. I came to check on you.
Bethany opens the door. Greg stands there with a small gift bag in his hand.
Greg? I didn’t know you were coming.
I was in the area. I figured I’d stop by and see how you’re doing.
Bethany steps aside.
Come in.
So, how are you feeling?
I’m doing okay. The recovery hasn’t been easy, but I’m taking it one day at a time.
I’m just trying to focus on getting better.
Greg looks at her for a few seconds. His expression suddenly changes.
Wait a minute.
What?
That’s it?
What do you mean?
I heard you had surgery, so I thought I was going to walk in here and see a completely different person. I don’t really see what all the excitement was about.
Greg, I’m still recovering.
I know, but I’m just saying… sure, but you spent all that money. Then you should have gotten better results.
I know how much it cost. Why are you talking to me like that?
I’m joking.
It doesn’t sound like a joke.
Come on, Bethany. Don’t be so sensitive.
Bethany walks back toward the couch and sits down.
I’ve been through a lot.
Everybody goes through something.
You have no idea what I’ve been dealing with.
I’m just telling you the truth.
There’s a difference between telling the truth and disrespecting somebody.
A tense silence fills the room.
So now I’m disrespecting you? Because I said the surgery didn’t change much?
You came into my house knowing I was recovering, and instead of asking how I was feeling, you started making jokes about my body.
I was just playing around.
Well, I’m not playing.
Bethany stands. She looks directly at him.
Do you know how hard it was for me to make this decision? Do you know how scared I was? Do you know how many times I questioned myself before going through with it? No. You don’t.
Bethany wipes a tear from her cheek.
So don’t come into my house and make fun of something I did because I wanted to feel better about myself.
Bethany, you’re taking this way too seriously.
That sentence pushes her over the edge.
Way too seriously?
Yes. I’m just saying you shouldn’t expect everybody to pretend they see some huge difference.
Stop. I said stop.
What are you going to do?
Bethany suddenly raises her hand and slaps Greg across the face.
The room goes completely silent. Greg freezes. Bethany immediately steps back, breathing heavy.
You had no right to come into my house and humiliate me.
Did you seriously just slap me?
Yes.
Bethany, you’ve lost your mind.
No. I finally stood up for myself.
I came here to check on you.
Then you should have acted like you cared.
I can’t believe you hit me.
And I can’t believe you thought it was okay to make fun of me while I’m recovering.
Greg grabs the gift bag he brought. He looks embarrassed and angry.
Fine. I’m leaving.
Good.
You’re going to regret this.
The only thing I regret is letting you disrespect me for as long as I did.
This isn’t over.
For today, it is.
Greg walks out and closes the door. Bethany remains standing in the living room. Her anger slowly turns into sadness. She sits back down on the couch. A tear rolls down her cheek.
I didn’t do this to become somebody else. I did it because I wanted another chance to feel confident in myself.
Bethany takes a deep breath. Her phone suddenly begins ringing. She looks at the screen — it’s Larry. She hesitates before answering.
Hello?
Bethany, are you okay?
Greg came over.
What happened?
He started making fun of my weight loss and my surgery.
What did you say to him?
I told him to stop.
And?
He wouldn’t. I slapped him.
You slapped Greg? Are you okay?
I’m okay. But I’m tired of people thinking they can say whatever they want to me just because I’ve had surgery.
Then don’t let anybody make you feel ashamed of yourself.
I just wanted somebody to understand.
You don’t have to prove anything to Greg or anybody else.
Thank you.
She ends the call and sits quietly. Outside, Greg walks down the driveway, still angry. He looks back at the house.
This isn’t finished.